


The Most Royal Fucking Fuchsia

by bookwormally



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bloodswap, M/M, Sexual Content, some violence mentioned but not graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/pseuds/bookwormally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fuchsia has finally joined them in the bubbles and Dualscar goes to meet them. It's not Her Imperial Condescension, but a rather familiar face in a new color. This Emperor seems just as interested in Dualscar as Dualscar is in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The bubble reforms around you. The memory of your stretch of beach, your hive, morphing into one you are almost equally familiar with. The Empress’s land palace rises in the dark. Her Imperial Condescension has joined you at last. You’re not sure what draws you forward, but you enter. Your casual clothes shift to your armor instead, your uniform under Her crown. It’s been a millennia, but morbid curiosity drives you on.

The throne room is easily found, but it’s…not right. Perhaps she changed since you died, but you’re certain there should be more gold. It’s also lacking the giant stature of Herself and that is a stark difference. There is no one She loves more than Herself.  Still you approach the solitary figure on the throne. You can make more out the closer you get and as your eyes adjust and you only grow more confused. Her hair is gone, shorn, as are her armfuls of gold jewelry. You reach the proper point for subjugation and you can see the troll before you is a tyrian _male_.

It’s not completely impossible, at least not here in the bubbles. You’ve met the female version of yourself after all. But it’s certainly not who you expected. You bow, better to be safe than sorry. He shifts, leans forward maybe. “Rise, violetblood.” His voice pings at you. You know it without that seadweller on land accent. You do as commanded and rise to meet his gaze. Your eyes narrow as you look at him even as he studies you. You _know_ him. Under the fuchsia and the gills and the fins and the power…

Your eyebrows shoot up as it clicks and you sputter. “S-Signless?” He arches an eyebrow and stands and oh he’s shirtless. His pants remind you of his leggings in the way they cling to him. Your eyes flick back up and you force your earfins back to neutral from perked interest. He looks you over again.

“You know me… or at least someone like me.” It is not a question. You nod anyway. He’s not _your_ Emperor. He walks closer, down the stairs, and stops two above you. It puts him only just on your eye level. You barely restrain a grin. He’s still a shorty. His eyebrow is still up. “I do not know you, but… you remind me of someone. I’ve never seen you among my violetbloods.” His tone is neutral, his body language, his fins giving away nothing of his emotions.

_That_ is what strikes you. You’ve joked with Signless that as a seadweller he’d be so easy to read, fins flapping everywhere. But this is not your Signless, hot as the desert sands. This is an Emperor as old as your Empress and as cold as the depths of the ocean that is your home. He ran his Empire until his recent death and he stares at you with fuchsia eyes and a cloak of power thick around his shoulders. You can feel blood rush to your fins and you swallow a bit harder than normal.

The Emperor drags his eyes down you again and his earfins twitch just slightly. “I’m sure I’d remember someone like you among my court.” You preen because it’s easier, better than the other direction this could go.

“I’m not a troll to forget.” You make the sounds roll off your tongue, but the tone is from deep in your chest and you know how that riles your Signless and what game are you playing with this version of him?

The Emperor smirks at you. “I’ll have to see proof before I believe it.” His tone is just wicked and your mouth feels dry. You want to prove it. You want to find out if he makes the same noises as your Signless when you fill him. If he moans in the same register and if he’ll feel as cold as Signless feels hot, a brand of ice instead of fire.

You glance away for a moment, because having sex with a fuchsia Signless is very much not a thing you should be thinking about. A sign is embroidered upon the banner behind the throne and you squint at it. Surely that wasn’t… “Are those shackles?” The Emperor blinks in surprise and there’s a glimpse of your Signless in his face. He turns to look though surely he knew what you meant.

“It’s my sign, the sign of His Imperial Sufferance. I suppose it could be seen as shackles. Have you never seen one like it before?” His face tells you nothing of how that sign became his and you refuse to ask.

You answer his question instead. “Only once and it wasn’t delegated as a sign, only a marker of death.” Your gaze does not leave his and neither of you give away a thing. This Emperor will never know of Signless unless you know it to be safe. He breaks first and a smirk curls his lips.

He will not step down and put himself below eye level, but he does lean forward. “Well suffice to say it’s only a marker of death for those who have something against me and the Empire.” He taps your armor. “Your sign is clear and one I know of vaguely. What is your position?” He stares at you with those eyes and he’s so like your Signless you can feel it, but his position shapes him in an entirely different way. You want to know if you peel those layers back if he’s still the same at the core. You want to know. So you climb up a step.

It’s a challenge and he knows it. Eyes narrow, fins flick, and his hand tightens on the handle of a weapon he does not have yet in hand. “I serve Her Imperial Condescension as her Orphaner, feeder of Her Emissary. I answer _only_ to Her Imperial Condescension.” You can see him barely contain a snarl.

“Everyone who enters this room and wishes to leave it still alive answers to _me_.” His fins are flaring in an attempt to look bigger, fiercer. It is an attempt doomed to failure.

You smirk in his face. “Luckily for me we’re already dead then.” This doesn’t seem to surprise him. Instead he actually snarls at your flippant tone and grabs the front of your breastplate. He yanks you forward and down to his level and his mouth meets yours. It’s more teeth than lips, but it has fire and you return it in kind.

He pulls back, panting and you can see him calculating even as your head is spinning. “I am not the one you know.” His voice as soft as you’ve heard it yet.

You swallow. “I know.”

“Good. I just wanted to make sure.” This time the kiss is softer and it’s so familiar. He moves his lips the same and despite the lack of heat you could swear you were kissing Signless. You dare to cup his face with one hand and drag him closer with the other around his back. You have no idea what you’re doing. This Emperor is not the Signless you’re in a relationship with. You’re not whoever the Emperor had in life. Somehow, neither of you care.

His hands find your hair and one dares to brush over your gills, making you gasp into his mouth. He’s smirking against your lips and you snarl and shift to pick him up. If he wants to play games, you’ll play. You carry him back to his throne and sit upon it like the arrogant ass you are. The Emperor is held tightly in your lap and you break the kiss to suck on one of his gill slits.

It makes him squirm and gasp and claw at your neck. You’re not sure if you’re trying for black or vacillating, but you know that you want him. You want this fuchsiablood that looks like your matesprit to moan your name and claw at your back and feel himself full of your violet. He seems quite willing to return the favor.

The Emperor is at your mercy until you release his gill slit and as soon as you do he sinks his teeth into the join of your shoulder and neck. You squeeze him closer as his tongue runs over the bite, tasting your blood, and memorizing the mark he’s left on you. You very much wish you didn’t have your armor on because that makes things much more difficult. You don’t want to break stride to take it off especially when you have a coldblooded Signless in your lap playing the very edges of your gills with his tongue.

You will your armor gone, easy enough since you were in casual clothes before. The white shirt and dark pants are simple and much easier to remove. You’re still on the throne and that should probably be remedied soon too. You like a little more room when you’re fucking someone. Fuchsia eyes are staring at you when you think to look down. Once he has your gaze he very deliberately grinds down. You’re half unsheathed in your pants and groan. His legs wrap around your hips when you stand and he manages to grind on you again. Ass.

“Platform or I fuck you on the ground right here.” That certainly makes him smirk despite the way his pupils dilate. He points down a hall leading left and you go. You stop barely out of the throne room to press his back against the wall and kiss him again. He’s starting to lose his control and jerks your hips together. He gets needy like Signless and you should really stop comparing them, but it’s all that’s letting your small morals be silenced. If it’s a tyrian Signless then it’s still Signless. It’s an excuse more than anything. You’re going to pail him no matter what. You’re in too deep now.

It takes you much longer to reach the room he points out than it should, but considering the way the Emperor continues to rut against you the whole way there you consider it a good enough run. You fall onto the platform, pinning him beneath you. Your bulge is writhing in your pants and the just barely there sensation of rubbing against the material is driving you crazy.

You unbutton them and let your bulge free and kick them off. You don’t give a shit about your shirt; you go back to nipping at the Emperor’s throat with just enough pressure to make him groan. Your bulge is curling on his stomach, seeking out the top of his leggings and he swears. Signless’ leggings are a pain to get off but these are much shorter. You get a grip on the edge and tear them off, patience gone. He pulls back from you for a moment and somehow manages to smirk at you. “Im-impatient are we?”

You growl and your bulge twines with his. He’s done talking then, head back as he arches against you. “Sensitive are we?” You rumble and he has no answer except to get a hand between the two of you and untangle your bulges. He lets his own curl against your thigh and it’s cool like water. His hand is the same though you can feel callouses on his palm. It wraps around your bulge, teasing with light pressure, and you buck into it despite yourself. You want to be in him _now_.

He spreads his legs for you, but keeps a hand on your bulge. “Say please, Orphaner.” You hiss at him in refusal and instead brush your knuckles over his nook as lightly as possible. He moans and tries to rub against them, force your fingers inside him, but you pull away. He still won’t let your bulge seek him out so you do it again as light as you can manage.

You can feel how wet he is, how much he wants this and he whimpers. You make some choked noise in reply, used to swallowing weak sounds. You can feel how much he wants this and it makes you want him more, to feel those tight folds squeeze you and surround you. You want to feel his bulge in you, the way it rubs all the best spots and pushes you over the edge.

His hand is off your bulge and you’re entering him before you’re really aware. With Signless the whole thing is denoted by heat, intense and it’s almost like putting your bulge into a bed of coals. Here’s it’s different. He’s not bigger than Signless, just as tight in fact, but he’s cool. The Emperor rolls his hips and he wants to take you all and take you now and you are more than happy to comply. He’s a tyrian; you don’t have to worry about hurting him like you do Signless.

Pushing further into him, gets you close enough for his bulge to enter you and you chirp before you can think to contain it. To your surprise he chirps back. There’s more going on here than either of you will confess but at this point almost hilted inside him you have ceased caring.  The pace picks up speed both of you rolling into each other and kissing each other with more energy than grace.

You don’t think in full sentences when things are like this.  It’s like flashes of insight. The way his legs wrap around your hips so you can’t pull too far back. The way his fins flare from the ones on his face to the ones on his arms and he can’t contain small noises. You bend close over him and his arms wrap around your neck.

This is not how a casual fuck works. Your behavior, his, it’s too personal. You both slow slightly as you wind each other up, catching your breath before you finish each other off. You look down at him and you catch him staring at you with pure unshielded _longing_. It’s gone just as quick and he digs his claws into your back. “Will you leave me hanging just to prove a point?” Another challenge, one you will destroy.

You pick up the pace again, fucking him on your bulge and yourself on his. Not to say he’s an inactive part of the equation, but he’s clearly used to being serviced in certain ways.  You can feel him shudder with every thrust as you press as deep inside him as you can.

Without warning his arms and legs tighten and pull you as tight to him as he can, which considering he’s fuchsia means you couldn’t pull back if you wanted to. His bulge thrashes inside you and he comes in a rush of chill material that makes you moan. His nook clenches and ripples around you, trying to milk material from you to fill him like he’s just filled you.

Just the thought, the realization that you just fucked and were filled with the material of an Emperor of most royal and rare fuchsia has you chirping and releasing. He squirms with a small groan, sensitive as you fill him. Your arms shake and you drop just next to him, panting hard. The Emperor next to you is in much the same state.

Your arm is over him and he rolls over to grin at you tiredly. “Well… I’m convinced I won’t forget you.” You grin back at him and pull him close for another kiss. Sex makes you stupid especially when your partner is a different color of your matesprit. They’re not the same troll, but the part of you still functioning doesn’t care. You should leave now. Find a pail, empty, and go before you get too deep. You cannot drag this out. You have a matesprit and no matter how close they are they are not actually the same person.

So you lean back, ready to push yourself to your feet. But strong iron bars of arms tug you back. The Emperor is not letting you up. He yawns, pulling himself into your chest. Your arms go around him automatically. He’s dropping off just like Signless does. Apparently not all seadwellers are like you in that they can bounce right along after a good round of sex.

He murmurs into your chest and you just barely make it out. “Don’t leave me again.”

Well, it’s not like you’ve got a choice considering his strength. Nothing for it but to entertain yourself until you fall asleep or he releases you. You are not above leaving while he’s unconscious. The less messy things are the better it is for you. You decide to look him over now that you have the chance.

He wears not quite as much jewelry as Condesce, but enough. Mostly in necklaces surprisingly. They could be used to choke him, but as the Emperor you doubt he gives two fucks. He sleeps like he doesn’t get the option very often but death grants the boon of a lack of responsibility. The jewelry didn’t come off while you pailed but considering how quickly you had gotten to the actual pailing it’s hardly a surprise.

He doesn’t stir as you nudge through the chains around his neck. You find Disciple’s sign in a ruby and that makes the small part of you that’s empathetic ache for him. You don’t know in his universe if they were lovers or more like the family your Signless has, but to have her sign means they were close. Many of the necklaces are just gold chains, a bit of sparkle that any seadweller is attracted to. The bottom one though…

The bottom chain is a deceptively fragile looking chain that actually feels like it would choke him before it snapped. Whatever it is he didn’t want to lose it. The same was true of the mutant Disciple charm. On the silver chain however, hangs a different memorial. The sign of his lover was in ruby red and perhaps it was to denote their flushed relationship or perhaps only her blood color.

Your sign is done in titanium and in one half of the symbol for infinity. His own takes the other half. You find it slightly ironic that his symbol as Emperor is the one that represents his mutant death, but who were you to judge paradox space. His sign has a tiny blood colored stone set into and so does yours. His Dualscar apparently is a tealblood. Interesting. You wouldn’t mind meeting him and see how he managed to woo an Emperor.

But that does clear up a few things, especially that last comment before the Emperor fell asleep curled up with you. “Don’t leave me again.” You’ve said that yourself. You’ve said it multiple times to Signless, dazed with sopor and scared to wake up and have him be gone again. You died soon after he did and you weren’t even in love with him yet. This Signless could have had a full relationship with you and had to watch you die of old age. Somehow, that seems even worse.

You want to help him strange as that is for someone like you. Signless is rubbing off you guess. You always want to help your mutantblood. To take away the nightmares and the fear even as he soothes your rough edges and loves you so fiercely. This Emperor, this lonely highblooded version of your lover, is someone you understand better than anyone else you’ve ever met. You want to make things better for him now that he’s dead.

The Emperor doesn’t sleep long. It’s the seadweller biology. It only takes a little bit of sleep to keep you going and being so high means you don’t have long for sleep anyway.  You still have the necklace in hand and it only takes him a glance to realize what you’re doing. His face closes though not as much as it was when you first encountered him. “I told you, you reminded me of someone.”

You let the chain fall through your fingers like water and it’s easily hidden back in the group around his neck. He watches you, always measuring your reactions and guessing which out of a million moves you’ll make next. It’s how highbloods stay alive for so long. You outthink your competition. It’s odd to see it on a version of Signless’ face.

A shrug is your answer. “You’re dead now. You’ll see plenty of trolls like ones you knew.” You’re not one to dance around it. “You can probably see him if you want to. I know someone who could help you track him down.” His eyes widen though nothing else changes. Even naked and freshly pailed an Emperor is an Emperor and emotion is a weakness to be exploited.

He’s measuring again, calculating if the risk is worth the reward and you decide to risk a little yourself. You cup his cheeks. “I promise you can find him and not anything here can tear the two a you apart. My matesprit is a mutant of bright red blood.” The Emperor blinks at you and his hand goes to the ruby charm at his throat. You brush your thumb over his cheek. “You don’t have to be Emperor anymore and you don’t have to worry about him leaving you again.”

The membrane of his earfins flushes just slightly. He probably thought you didn’t hear him. But his gaze is iron. “You’ve already proved yourself to be truthful once. I would be glad to see you do it again. Take me to your guide.” You smirk and shift him off your lap.

“Gladly.” Standing you go to the attached ablution chamber and empty yourself. You tug your pants back on having grabbed them off the floor. Your shirt is splattered with a bit of material, but you’ve looked worse. The Emperor is pulling clothes from a drawer when you come back, a fresh pair of pants since you shredded the others as well as a sleeveless top with openings for his gill slits on the side. His sign in bright fuchsia is across his chest. You wolf whistle because you think the way it clings is hot and he shoots you a flat look. It’s so Signless that you laugh.

With a bow you hold out your arm to him. “Shall we go then Majesty?” He sniffs, but takes your arm.

“You are an ass.”

“Ah you’re catching on already. My guide will be glad to agree with you.” You grin at him. He huffs, but it almost sounds like a laugh.

You lead him back into the hall. You think of your matesprit as you walk, willing him to find you or you to find him. Either works. The cold finery of the palace begins to go soft and then melts away. Your companion watches with interest, a small flick to his fins.

The cool marble floor gives way to soft sands and you roll your eyes. Was he ever not in this giant sandbox? At least he’s not imagining midday for once. The double moons soar high above you and you can see every star. You stop on the top of a dune, every trace of the palace gone. You can feel him here somewhere. The Emperor glances at you just as you open your mouth. “Signless!” You call out over the sands. It carries far and no doubt he’ll hear it.

An annoyed voice answers from behind you. Which should not be possible, but dream bubbles. “That was highly unnecessary. I could feel you appear you great ass. What do you want now?” You turn, grinning already even as your companion goes tight and wary. Signless has his arms crossed, hood down, and he glances at the Emperor. Then back to you before whipping back to the troll on your arm again. You barely manage not to laugh.

“I brought someone who could use your assistance oh great masterful will of the dream bubbles.” You give him a little bow. Signless flips you off, but his focus is on your guest. He steps closer and you drop the Emperor’s arm.

They stare at each other in silence for a moment and you try not to laugh. Signless bends first and offers a hand. “Well it’s not quite like meeting a female version of myself, but it’s still quite odd. I’m the Signless. And you are?” The Emperor looks him over. You wonder how much of his Disciple he sees and if he’ll accept the gesture.

Cold meets warm and they shake, highest and lowest and the same at the core. “I’m called His Imperial Sufferance.” Signless makes a face at the title, but nods. The Emperor lifts an eyebrow, but continues. “If another version of myself is the best guide this place has to offer than I can only hope my competence still far outstrips that of silly scarred trolls.” You grumble even as Signless laughs.

“Trust me, Dualscar is a fine troll, just not quite as imaginative as I am. Speaking of, what exactly am I helping with?” Signless turns to look at you, but you shake your head. You nod to the Emperor. His face has closed again as Signless turns back to him. His hand goes up to clench on something around his neck. You know it has to be the infinity necklace. Your matesprit waits patiently.

He hesitates for the first time since you’ve met him. His voice is cautious. “Dualscar,” he glances at you. “was rooting through my jewelry while I was sleeping on him.” You can feel Signless’ eyes, but keep your gaze on the tyrian. “He found this necklace.” He pulls it out, not off, but out. Something tells you he has never removed it since it was given to him. Signless steps close enough to see and you can see him go soft, the way his shoulders relax and the twitch to his fingers. He wants to hug his other self; you can read it on him plain as day.

Instead he looks at him seriously. “I’ll help you find him. You’ll do most of the work, but I know how to help.” The Emperor looks at him and glances at you. You only lift an eyebrow, arms crossed, and the picture of casual seadweller arrogance. He sighs and turns back to Signless. They clasp hands.

“I would be endlessly grateful if you could assist me.”

Signless grins at him. “Only if it means I don’t end up so much red on the end of a culling fork.” He’s teasing and the Emperor rolls his eyes. You grumble because it’s not fucking funny Signless, please stop that. “Alright, down to business. Dream bubbles work on will and memory. If you will it to be, it shall. If you remember it, it is.” Signless settles in easily to explaining the mechanics of this place. Where he picked it all you can’t remember. One of the younger trolls you think; all dressed in red and with the creepy smile.

You take a seat in the sand as they talk and will up an ocean breeze. It takes a minute, your surroundings shifting, but a little ways away the ocean appears and the breeze brushes over your skin. You sure appreciate it and no doubt the Emperor does too. Seadwellers can only take so much of this dry bullshit before they shrivel.

You tune back into their conversation when you hear them going back and forth.

“I simply need to remember and will him to me then?”

“Well, almost. You have to remember the places you were together, the memories of greatest feelings for the two of you. You can only really…hope the strength of memory will pull the bubbles together. It’s an imperfect method, but if he’s looking for you at the same time…Well paradox space is not entirely without pity.”

Standing up, you brush the sand off. “Well no time like the present. Let’s get walking.” They both look up at you, Signless with frustration and the Emperor only slight irritation. “Sign don’t make that face; you and I both know sitting and talking won’t get shit done. Better we get walkin’ and he tries to make him appear than sitting on your ass and theorizing at him.”

The Emperor nods agreement and stands. Signless pushes himself up as well, grumbling. “I got plenty of shit done by talking on my ass.” You pull him close, round the shoulders, and kiss him.

“Yeah you did, including getting’ your ass culled so hush up. Let’s start walking and let the gracious Emperor version a you get to remembering.” Signless grumbles, but stays close, arm around your waist. You gesture to the Emperor who rolls his eyes and calls you a douche. You can only grin. “You’re the one looking for me.” He flips you off and starts walking.

Signless had told him talking about the memory would help it solidify so talk the Emperor does. “My Dualscar was the finest Legislacerator they ever had. His true shining moment that placed him up above all others was when he hunted down and convicted a genocidal brownblood. He had the ability to control animals and took control of Dualscar’s lusus: a giant dragon. The brownblood was using the poor beast to slaughter hundreds, riding it from town to town and burning everything. Dualscar was furious.”

The sands disappear replaced by scorched countryside. It’s complete with the smell of burned flesh and Signless chokes. You pull him in tightly, burying his face in your cloak which smells of nothing more than the sea. Luckily it doesn’t seem like you’re stopping here.

“Not only was this shitblood murdering bloods above his own, he was also using the great beast who raised Dualscar to do it. It took some doing, but he caught him. The story of how varies in every telling, but from what he said it came down to luck. The dragon hesitated and Dualscar used the opportunity to incapacitate the rider. His lusus couldn’t kill him without remorse and it brought him victory.” It goes dark around you, a hall with little light. The smell is slower to fade, but it does disappear in a new scent. This time of old blood.

It makes your skin crawl, reminding you of your own death at the hands of that fucking monster lunatic for a failed joke. Signless is still fire hot against you and you hold him close and pretend you aren’t as tense as steel cables. The Emperor leads you past an empty cell block and there are garish smiles painted on the walls in brown blood. You barely restrain a hiss of distaste.

“He was brought to trial quickly and my Dualscar won the case without difficulty. It put him on record as the best of the best. The execution was swift. Quadrantmates of the murdered would have rioted otherwise.” A set of black doors greets you and he halts. “He… was proud to serve the Empire as due his station.”

He stares at the doors and you can read the longing, the painful hope inside him that died long ago when he was still alive. You and Signless wait patiently though you want to throw the doors wide and shove him in. You doubt the Emperor felt it, but both you and Signless had recognized the feel of joining another bubble. The Emperor has to do this for himself. Still you roll your eyes and resist the urge to tap your foot.

Finally he grabs the fucking handles and pulls them open with no visible effort. On the other side is a court block. It lacks His Imperial Tyranny and a crowd, but there is someone standing before a hanging corpse at the center of the room. You and Signless only follow the Emperor halfway down the stairs. He proceeds to the railing that marks the spectators section and grips the rail.

His voice is strong and you can only detect the smallest amount of shaking. “The case has ended Legislacerator. The execution is complete. Why do you linger?” The figure below him turns and kneels as if he knew the Emperor was there all along. It’s graceful as anything you could have done and you mentally applaud yourself for being as suave in another universe as you are your own. Signless elbows you like he can tell what you thinking.

The tealblood is speaking and his voice isn’t exactly yours, but it’s close. You can’t get over how short he is. “I have been waiting for someone Majesty. It seemed improper to leave before I met with them.” It’s like a code. You wonder if you and Signless sound the same to outsiders.

The Emperor maintains his position above, but you can see his hands shaking. “They are very lucky to have one as determined as you to be waiting for them.”

Still the tealblood doesn’t look up. His voice carries to fill the room. “He waited an eternity for me. It only seems fair to return but a portion of that time to him.”

Their voices are both shaking and you can feel Signless squeeze your waist. You roll your eyes. How dramatic. The Emperor’s voice drops. “You serve him well.”

“With my last breath, from my birth to my death, until the end of eternity itself do I serve my Emperor.” The tealblood looks up and the Emperor vaults the railing to land on the ground, a ten foot drop that he handles like a step. He runs at the kneeling tealblood. The other you barely gets his arms open before they crash together. You’re not sure what they’re doing, crying, kissing, both? Whatever, you did your good deed for the afterlife.

Signless hums pleased next to you. You look down and tilt his chin up for a kiss. He smiles against your lips and you pull back. He lifts an eyebrow. “I know you pailed him. You pail another version of me again and I’ll cut your dick off.” You chuckle and kiss him again.

“As you wish Emperor of my bloodpusher.” You leave the two of them to it and return to your own memories.

*

He’s as cold as the seas that saw his birth and just as old. He’s lived an eternity without you yet looks just the same. Your Emperor ruled before your hatching and long after your death. You had breathed your last holding his hand and gone into the endless dark on your own. You have no clue how much it destroyed him, but from the way he clings to you now it was immeasurable.

You’re lying on the ground of a court block of memory in the afterlife. You’re both dead and you’ve been waiting for him only a fraction of the time he’s lived without you.

His tears taste like salt and he clings to you like he’ll never again let go. You nudge your foreheads together and kiss him soft and slow and aching. You will never be able to make up for the time you missed, but you have the now. As far as you know the afterlife doesn’t have an expiration date.

Your Emperor leans back just far enough to catch his breath and you thumb away his tears. “Forever and always and eternity,” you whisper.

“My heart and soul are yours,” he finishes and kisses you again.


	2. Coda

If there’s one downside to the afterlife it’s how incredibly boring it gets. After a while the other dead and wandering through memories, even those that weren’t yours, got pretty boring. Eridan is decently sure he’s ready to die again if it means having something exciting happen. Maybe he’d get reborn. Yeah that’d be cool. Of course with his luck he’d get reborn as a rust or some shit. Fucking lame.

Well at least he wasn’t alone in this stupid afterlife, bubble memory deal. He starts walking. At least he could go find his Dad and argue and talk about court cases and kicking ass and about who exactly was the best Legislacerator the empire ever had. As he continues to walk, Eridan is expecting the memory to reshape into the court block. It’s an easy meeting place for them both and less painful to linger over than other memories.

Instead of the court block forming however, Eridan smells the sea. He glances around in surprise and yep there’s the ocean, water dark and waves slapping the beach. He turns his head slowly. A palace rises before him and his heart leaps into his throat. He starts running. The palace continues to rise overhead, refusing to vanish and stupid hope fills him. It’s been so long since he’s been to the palace.

The doors are open and there are no guards. _Please, please, finally please._ Eridan’s thoughts race almost as much as his feet as he turns down this hall and that one. No one, absolutely no one is here, not even memory ghosts.

Finally, he reaches the double doors that enter to the suite of rooms he knows better than anything else in the palace. Eridan pauses to catch his breath. It’s here and he might be here too and what the hell is he waiting for? He pulls the doors open and looks around.

Dualscar, his father, is lying on the couch asleep and there’s someone with him. Someone a bit smaller and a seadweller and shit it really is him. Eridan throws himself across the room to hug the smaller troll tightly. He gets to enjoy this for all of a second before there’s a furious hiss and he’s flying back across the room. Oh. That may have been a very stupid thing to do.

A furious seadweller has him by the throat, pressing him against the wall. Fuchsia eyes are hard and narrowed and the hand around his throat is hard as steel. Flared fins on ears and arms have Eridan drooping. Oh God. Shit, shit, shit. Looks like he’s about ready to find out if he can double die.

But the pressure doesn’t increase as the other troll growls at him. Eridan can’t look away even as he hears his father’s voice say a name, questioning, cautioning. The seatroll, the emperor is studying him and slowly earfins drop back and the hand lowers him back to the ground. Eridan is coughing and rubbing at his throat when he’s jerked into a hug.

The Emperor is hugging him tightly. “Sorry Eridan. Sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s okay,” he coughs out. “I shouldn’t have jumped on you. Forgot how jumpy you can be Papa.” Suff scowls at him even as Dualscar comes into view kneeling next to him. He pats the seatroll’s shoulder and murmurs agreement. Suff sticks his tongue out and grumbles about both of them. He’s still got his arms around Eridan.

The tealblood returns the hug. “Took you long enough, Papa. You still look the same.”

He scoffs in Eridan’s ear. “Of course I do. I haven’t aged since I turned thirty five I swear. Except maybe for the few grey hairs you and your hatchmates inspired.”

Eridan frowns at him. “Oh no, you can’t pull that one. Dad is the one who raised us while you were off running the Empire.” Suff looks away and immediately Eridan is squeezing him close in a hug again. “Not like that Papa, not what I meant. Dad just got old and ugly while you were lucky enough to keep your good looks.”

Dualscar grumbles, but doesn’t really argue. The Emperor, Suff, Papa is dead and in the embrace of two trolls who love him more than anyone else and the same can be said of his feelings in return. His smile returns. “Lucky indeed. It’s good to see you again little one.”

Finally, another piece clicks into place. It’ll be fun to see how the last one falls in. For now though Eridan is content to enjoy having his Papa back. It definitely breaks the boredom.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: http://splickedylit.tumblr.com/tagged/Sufferanceverse/chrono


End file.
